Innermost Thoughts
by Inexorable
Summary: Within its pages, a journal can reveal forgotten pasts, hopeful dreams, wistful hopes, and dark secrets. And someone's been keeping a journal...
1. Apathy

We've been living in our world for thousands of years. We never did anything wrong or made any of the other inhabitants angry with us. We went along with our lives, playing and loving and sustaining ourselves like any living being would do. Whenever we had visitors, we were all kind to them and our royal family was especially polite and courteous. Even when they came.

I remember when they first set their feet upon our ground. I was helping my mother harvest the strawberries and grapes while my little sister played by us with our pet dog. I was taking a break when I saw one of them. He was…strange looking, I give you that. He was wearing a weird outfit…I don't remember it too much anymore, but it was like a black cloak with red and green in the front. I never got to see his face for it was covered by a mask. He had arms that seemed to meld into his body when he wanted to…Like I said, strange.

Now, I just want to tell you that I have manners. I really do. My mother always told me to never stare at someone—it's rude. But, you know…I couldn't stop staring at him. I know my gaze probably told him I thought he was a freak, but it's not like I could help it. He was strange looking, but more than just that. He looked completely harmless, but…My senses were going off the charts. I could practically feel cunning and evil rolling off of him in great, big waves.

Oh yeah, that's another thing about our race. Most of us are gifted with the ability to sense emotions if they're really strong. I guess…it's sort of like empathy. You know, having that ability to feel someone's emotions? Well, our race was blessed with that ability. There is a story to go with it, but I won't go into that right now. Did you know that some of us really have a strong "sixth sense"? Like, some of us can sense danger that's looming over the horizon. I, myself can't, but the village elder can. Sorry, I'm getting a little ahead of myself right now.

Anyway, the weird person looked at me—or at least I think he was looking at me. I really can't tell what he was doing behind that mask—and said something to his companion. At first, I really couldn't see who his companion was. Well, I couldn't see where he was either. But then, my little sister giggled and pointed at something sort of low to the ground. So I followed her hand…and I saw that weird person's companion.

He looked no older than my sister, around six or seven. He had pale skin and purple hair. He had small eyes and a strange expression on his face. It looked like…It looked like he was drinking up our world, as if he wanted to take it all for himself. But I dismissed that notion as soon as it came into my head. After all, he is only a child. How could he ever take over our world? The thought is preposterous and, therefore, it should not be occupied in my mind.

But, you know, I was wrong.

They came back a week later. In a flash, the royal family was decimated. And then…That strange, young boy was floating in the air in a strange sort of chair. He smiled at us, laughing gleefully. A woman appeared next to him. She was beautiful, but looked deadly at the same time. Her purplish dress resembled a flower ready to bloom as well as her greenish hair. Holding an umbrella in her hand, she floated down toward us, smiling. She cooed at my little sister. My little sister smiled back and then she was dead. Alive one second, dead the next. She was still smiling. She didn't have enough time to realize what was going on.

A loud scream filled the air at that moment, its cry was pure anguish. It took me a moment to realize that it was from me. My mother…she wasn't crying. Because she was dead too. I fell to the ground, sobbing. And I looked up to see that woman laughing as she controlled her plants. The plant-lady. That was the last thing I saw before I passed out: a laughing face.

When I did wake up again, most of my people were dead. That, and we weren't in our world anymore. Well, we were, sort of. I woke up to see a piece of our world, tucked away in another. The other survivors and I just continued living. In homes that weren't quite ours, in our world that wasn't. We became introverted. I never spoke to anyone. Our world of happiness and laughter suddenly turned into one of silence and death.

I am older now, and more mature. Or am I? I fear those who call themselves the Deathlords and I certainly fear the Count. I stay in my house, in my room, away from danger. I observe it, I don't participate in it. I watched a man fight that woman that I hate so much. I watched two children walk around our small world without fear to find their parents. I watched the feared swordsman destroy a part of our world. And I still do nothing. He hates me for it. But he is young, and doesn't realize the pain we lived through. But still he fights. As should I. My hatred of that lady hasn't diminished in these long years. She killed my mother who has tried to raise us the best she could without a husband. She killed my sister who would never live past her sixth birthday. She ruined my life. I hate her.

So why aren't I doing anything?

AN: Part one of a hopefully long series. Can you guess who's journal entry this is? Oh, and I don't own FF:U.


	2. Silver Bells

My baby. My poor, poor baby! How I wish to encircle my arms around body and tell you that it's ok to cry just like I used to so long ago. It seems like for an eternity I have been watching you, watching you and crying for you when you cannot. How I wish I could be pulled from my slumber of death and once again hold you tight against my body, just like when you were a little child.

But you're not a little child, are you? Not anymore. You've grown up and matured into a handsome young man, just like your father.

But my sweet darling, why have you degraded yourself? Why have you degraded yourself into a lowly servant, to those who destroyed our world?

You can't be happy with the life you're leading! It shows on your face, in your beautiful eyes. Your eyes…how they used to be filled with a warm light as you played in the village. How your face was a reflection of the emotions you feel within you…

Now, what are you? What happened to my precious Kumo? The one who laughed so freely, like ringing silver bells on a clear day…

When was the last time you laughed, my darling? Can you even remember? All those long years, spent in solitude, in silent agony…

Show your emotions, my baby, let yourself cry once in awhile! You've been so silent and your suffering has been yours alone…Alone, like a statue in the middle of the sea.

How I wish that fate did not dealt us that horrible card. How I wish that we never had to fight, that we never had to fight with those people. The Count and his Deathlords. The very people you choose to serve now. Now, our world is destroyed, its inhabitants dead, their souls floating in the afterlife…But not you, my sweet one. You…You are still alive, against all odds. Your will has survived and brought you this far, where you patiently wait for a chance for revenge…

Oh, my little love! Do not let hatred and revenge consume your soul!! Do not become a bitter shell of a person, do not let love and hope slip away from your grasp. Because I can see it now…You are starting to lose hope in everything you ever believed in, everything you ever loved…

And now, I stand over you, watching you as I have done for so many years now. Watching, but not speaking. Listening, but not taking action. My dear, you're shaking in your bed right now, but no tears come from your eyes. Have you forgotten how to cry, my little love? Have you forgotten what it is to love and to cherish? To hold and be held?

And you're shaking, but you're saying something over and over again too…

"Otousan…Okaasan…" you softly cry into your pillow and you are shaking even harder now. "Niisama…" you moan softly, remembering the people whom you loved in our world.

I place a hand on your shaking shoulder, but it, of course, passes through your body as if it was never there.

"Otousan…Okaasan…" your cries are getting louder. What are you remembering, my love? "Niisama!" you all but scream into your pillow. "Don't die, don't leave me here…Don't leave me here alone…Please, don't go…"

Oh, my little love…Are you remembering that horrid night where all we fought for was lost? Where our world was destroyed and everyone on it died? Where you were whisked away into a new world, alone and helpless?

You still shake, harder than ever. But, your eyes are dry. You can't…You simply _can't_ cry any longer.

My darling, I will cry for you. I will shed the tears that you cannot. I only ask of one thing for you.

My little love, live life and do not let your dreams be deferred!

--

Son. My son.

How long was it? Since I have last seen you and talked to you face to face?

Too long. Too many years between us. I float listlessly in this strange "heaven" as a spirit, as I watch you slowly grow up and mature into a young man.

A fine young man.

But how long? How long until you deem yourself insane, tortured by the echoes of our world's destruction that still plays in your mind, day by day, hour by hour? How long until you completely break down from being so painfully and utterly alone in this world, surrounded by those who destroyed your world?

At this rate, my son, you will not last long. I have already seen this hopelessness and despair that is engulfing your soul, slowly but surely. Especially after that cruel trick the Count played. To bring back your dead brother, the very one whom we loved and the one you idolized, and try to fight you. How devastated you were!

I saw. As you struck him down, as you clutched his cloak tight to your small frame and cried tears that haven't fallen from your face in years, I saw the urge to follow him.

But then, then you stood up. You stood up and you saw _them_. The children, the young men and women who dedicate their lives to the destruction of Chaos. And I know what you were thinking in your mind, at that very moment.

_I will fight for them. They are my last hope of redemption, my last chance out of this hell I've created for myself. _

I watch and I know.

You're my son.

And I, your father.

But banish those sorrowful thoughts! Think of life and live for those who can never live again! You were blessed with life, so use it now! Use it for those who have died! Live in their place!

And for God's sakes, GET A WOMAN ALREADY!

AN: I'll admit it, the last one was pretty hard to get. It was the "hoodies" (as I call them) or the "Apathetics" (as the official people call 'em) You know, the people we meet in like episode 3? Yeah…them…

Many thanks to Kylre (AKA my idol) for reviewing this wonderful (ha, I wish) story. Many thanks to Feral Claw, for reminding me of the love of this series. And many thanks to those who've read, but have not reviewed. I love you all!!

Yeah, and this whole journal entry was so depressing so I figured his dad would have ended it with some silly comment. Like that.


End file.
